Mothers Day
by EdwardBiteMePlz
Summary: I had this argument with myself, cooped up in this room, every year. This is the one day I let my grief overflow...and I keep it locked securely inside at all other times.


I sat in my studio, mourning. I was glad that Edward was with Bella, he wouldn't have to suffer. But I wished Jasper would leave. I do not want my family to suffer with me.

They know to leave me alone today. Even Carlisle, just lets me be, no matter how much it hurts him that he can't comfort me.

I sit alone and stare at my paintings. Many of them are ones of women with their children, and they are all happy. I figure the best I can do is at least make THEM happy. No one deserves grief, except for me.

I killed my little boy. If I had done something more, anything more, I could have saved him.

But then I wouldn't have met Carlisle.

I had this argument with myself, cooped up in this room, every year.

This is the one day I let my grief overflow...and I keep it locked securely inside at all other times.

The beautiful wood in the room has seemed to have lost it's shine. The window seems a little less lucid.

The river was murkier.

The grass was less green.

The clouds were that much darker.

I sighed as I noticed the imperfections in life.

I loved my children now, but the little one's loss was so overwhelming. He had been mine. My flesh, my blood. Mine.

I felt a hole that could not be filled. Not with all of their love together.

I heard the Volvo's engine purr quietly as it slowed down to turn into our driveway.

Edward was always a little more careful when Bella was in the car, I was almost certain she was with him.

A minute later the car door slamming yanked me out of my sad seclusion. One pair of footsteps followed. That must be Bella. I heard a falter in the steps and Edward's chuckle as he caught her. How he loved doing that.

I turned my gaze upon one painting that I had painted very recently.

It was a picture Bella had given me. One of her when she was five years old sitting in Renee's lap.

They were only wearing shorts and tank tops, sitting in the wet sand on an empty beach.

Bella had told me the water had been awfully cold and their weren't any waves for surfing.

Both their legs were peppered with wet sand and their toes were buried down deep into the dark brown, sandy mud. Their hair was tossed and tangled by the sharp wind and their eyes were closed, but they were laughing. The salty spray was being thrown into their faces and further down the beach you could see the white froth racing forward with the tide.

I could almost taste the coarse salt on my icy tongue. That was the last thing I tasted in my human life. Off the cliffs and into the dark, salty depths.

My eyes focused again on the painting with the much smaller picture beside it.

I wonder who had taken that picture. Were they laughing too?

"Esme?"

There was a light knock on my door.

I stood up and Edward put his head through the opening.

"Bella . . ." he paused and tried to hold back a wince," Wants to see you."

"Alright." I brushed my hand along the frame of the painting on my way to the door. Edward's eyes zeroed in on it.

"I can't believe while she was there, I was somewhere in the world not knowing she existed," he spoke very softly.

I smiled at him. I also couldn't help but think, 'I told you so.'

He rolled his eyes and followed me down the hall.

As I made my way lithely down the stairs, everyone in the living room turned and stared with flabbergasted expressions.

"Hello, Bella," I greeted her, ignoring their stares.

"Hi, Esme," she responded shyly. She pulled out a card sheepishly from behind her back, and handed it to me.

"I wanted to make it myself--"

"But I wouldn't let her handle the scissors," Edward laughed while Bella fruitlessly tried to glare at him.

Emmett chuckled, but even that was nervous.

I opened the card gently and read the note she scrawled.

Esme-

Thank you so much for accepting me into your family. You're my second mother here in Forks.

I really appreciate all you've done for me and hope one day I will have loved you enough to give all your love back. Happy Mothers Day.

I love you.

Bella.

I blinked several times, and then smiled.

"Thank you so much, Bella."

I wrapped my cold arms around her and pulled her to me, not wanting to let go.

Perhaps my hole could not be filled with all of their love together.

But Bella's could stitch it back up, and let me finally move away from the grief.

I would always remember my baby, but next Mother's day, I would remember the good things, not the bad.

And I would smile.

Because smiles, are a language even a baby can understand.


End file.
